Games
by Hattie J Huper
Summary: Micky's new girlfriend creates tension between the boys with her munipulative ways.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 **it's the story critics are calling a masterpiece. Games is one of the most important, influential and moving stories in Fan Fiction history.**

The car nearly hit him. It was such a close thing but Micky jumped clear just in time. The car careered into a load of trash cans at the end of the street. It was late and there was no one about, no one who could help. Micky got up from the pavement where he had fallen. The car began to smoke and flames licked out from under the hood. Micky began to stagger, then he ran to the car. There was a pretty girl behind the wheel but he hadn't time to notice particulars. He pulled her out and dragged her to safety as the fire had really began to take hold.

"You alright miss?" He asked.

She had a bump on her head and seemed understandably distressed but otherwise looked unharmed.

"I'm ok, just my ankle hurts," she told him.

"I need to go ring for an ambulance," Micky said as he looked around for a call box.

"No please, don't do that. My father would be so angry to know about the car."

"He'd probably be happy to know you're not hurt," Micky put in logically.

"No please," she took his arm. "You must hide me."

Micky wouldn't consider such a thing, she needed to go to a hospital but she looked so desperate.

Before he could think better of it Micky had brought her back to the beach house.

"Please Micky, do you have any old clothes I could wear." She asked as she lay on the couch. "I need a disguise of some sort."

This was going too far, Micky sat down next to her and decided some straight talk was necessary.

"Look miss, I want to help you."

"Charlotte, Charlotte Henning," she told him.

"I wanna help you Charlotte but I think it would be a good idea if you would tell me what's going on. Why are you so scared?"

"That's a fair question. Micky, my father is a very rich man, he is also one of the biggest gangsters in America. Drugs, hits, money laundering you name it. I just had to get away from him. I'm not like that Micky. I take after my mother. She passed away two years ago. I need to start a new life find my identity away from my father's influence. Please, I'll pay you back sometime. Won't you please help me?"

~o~

Mike, Davy and Peter got back from the movies later that evening.

"Micky you're lucky you went off in a huff," Peter told him. "You missed one rubbish movie."

"I didn't go off in a huff, I just needed to do some thinking," Micky shrugged.

Davy grinned "Mike said your drumming was too erratic and your timing was off and you still maintain you didn't go off in a huff."

"Only girls go off in a huff,"

They all stared at the boy who had just come from the kitchen. He wore a beat up grey sweater, jeans and a blue baseball cap.

"Guys this is eh...Charlie. He's a friend of mine. I said he could crash on the couch for a couple of days. That's ok isn't it?"

Mike frowned "he's a little young Micky, how old are you?"

Charlotte had to think fast, she was 16 but judged that she must look younger dressed as a boy.

"Fourteen," she lied.

She flushed red as this older boy scrutinised her from head to foot.

"Fourteen? Where's your folks, aren't they worried about you?"

"I'm travelling, they know I'm travelling. They're ok with that. I just need a place to crash for a couple of days."

But Mike had a lot more questions, "where'd you two meet?" He asked.

Charlotte hung back and let Micky take this one.

"He worked at Harry's Pizza Hut with me, he did the deliveries," Micky answered.

He wished Charlotte would let him tell the guys her story but it seemed she didn't trust anyone.

Mike nodded but he wasn't convinced.

"Come on Mike, I'm starving," Davy put the pizza's on the table and sent Peter to get glasses.

"You hungry Charlie?" he asked their new friend.

Charlie was slightly smaller than Davy, to him that was a real plus already.

"I'm starving," she grinned taking the pizza slice he handed her. She began to eat trying to ignore Mikes eyes watching her.

That night Micky brought her some blankets and a pillow and she made herself comfortable on the couch. She wore an oversized night shirt belonging to her new friend. He totally bought her story, bless him. He obviously wasn't too bright. She smiled warmly to herself when she considered all the fun she was about to have.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Charlotte looked from one to the other as they all sat around the breakfast table. She couldn't understand these boys at all. For breakfast they were eating the pizza they had last night.

Micky offered her a piece of the reheated, chewy comfort food but she declined wrinkling her nose a little.

"Have some Charlie, you won't get nothin round here if you have manners, it's every man for himself," Davy grinned at her.

She could understand that they didn't have help like she did in her home. The cook gave the boy the order and he took the van to town to buy the food. She could understand that they didn't have that kind of service but couldn't they go shopping for themselves?. Their cupboards were nearly bare. She had taken a large glass of milk for breakfast meaning the boys had to make do with black coffee. She didn't feel bad about that, they should have gone shopping.

Once they were finished eating the boys scrambled to get ready for their days work. They worked a ten hour shift in the local pizza parlour.

Micky pulled Charlotte aside for a quick pep talk.

"You ok?" he asked her.

"Yes I'm fine, you didn't tell the others about me did you Micky?"

"No, I promised. I didn't tell them anything. They think you're some kid I used to work with. But Charlotte I think you'll need to cut that hair. No offence, I mean it's groovy hair but you can't wear that hat forever and boys don't usually have hair that long."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it Micky."

Micky nodded "There's a scissors in the drawer. I'm sorry Charlotte but it's best if you want to avoid your father."

"I do," she nodded, "And Micky, it's best if you call me Charlie," she smiled.

Micky winked at her as he made his way over to grab his jacket.

Mike came up to her then, "Here's a key if you want to go walking or something, just remember to lock the back door. The key is in the lock," he told her.

"Thanks," she took the key from him.

"There's not much food in the house," he went into his pocket and fished out five bucks. "This'll buy you a burger and fries at the stand by the beach but don't go to the first vender. His burgers have been sitting out in the sun all day, go to Larry's further up the beach. His stuff is fresh."

She nodded as she took the money. Micky's friend sure could go on and on, he sounded like her governess.

"Ok, will you be alright here on your own, you can watch television," Mike told her.

"I'll be fine. I'm used to being on my own. My mom worked a lot of long shifts."

Mike patted her shoulder in sympathy before he headed off with the others.

~o~

'Ugh, I thought they'd never go,"

Charlotte firstly headed over and had a riotous time on Micky's drums. She had been dying to do that since she got here. But soon more important issues came to the fore. She headed out into the street and found a reasonable restaurant. This wasn't a great district but the place looked reasonably clean. She had a full breakfast of bacon egg's, pancakes and syrup. Those boys could keep to their Monastery diet all they liked but she was going to eat well. After that she headed to the hair salon and got a short cropped hairstyle. The stylist was most annoying, constantly asking her was she sure she wanted her hair like this and did her parents approve but finally she did what she was supposed to do and she cut Charlotte's hair.

Finally she took a trip to an expensive clothing store and bought new jeans and a shirt and jacket, much like Micky and his friends would wear. Oh and she had to have that darling red baseball hat. Now she really looked the part.

Her parents could send themselves to that local commoners day school because she wouldn't be going. If she couldn't go back to her boarding school in Switzerland then she wouldn't be going anywhere.

Finally she took a trip to the post office. She bought note paper and stamps. That done she headed back to the beach house to begin composing the ransom note she was going to send to her parents, after all, she was going to run out of money sooner or later.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Boys being boys you wouldn't find their habits in the good house keeping guide but Charlie was something else entirely. This kid showed no regard for others and Mike was starting to get annoyed. He expressly told the boy to lock the back door when he went out and twice now they had come back to the pad to find a bunch of beach hippies sitting on their couch stoned out of their faces. They were peace loving flower power heads who warmly hugged Mike and Peter as they showed them the door but that was hardly the point

"Come on man, you gotta be more responsible," Mike told him. "The one rule is you lock the back door when you're going out. Charlie it ain't that hard."

Mike's tone wasn't that harsh. He wasn't into scaring young boys but still Charlotte covered her face and began to wail. Micky was to her side in an instant.

"Come on man, not cool, he's just a kid," Micky frowned up at Mike.

Mike threw up his hands and went to the kitchen to start dinner. Peter came in after and started looking after the breakfast dishes that were still in the sink.

Davy gave Micky a neutral shrug and went to lay the table. Feeling just a little resentment towards his friends, Micky took Charlotte upstairs. The problem was he was starting to fall for her. She seemed so lost and vulnerable. She needed him.

Over the next couple of days Charlotte confided a lot in Micky. She told him how her gangster father wanted her to learn everything about the business as she was to inherit his empire one day. She lamented on how she despised his dirty deals and how her mother turned the other way and would not stand up to him.

"I thought your mother passed away," Micky asked, somewhat confused.

Charlotte recovered quickly, "oh yes, my real mother died. She was a sainted woman bless her. No this is his new wife. She's a real dolly bird Micky, I don't know what he sees in her. Oh Micky, I'm so glad to be here away from them all.

~o~

Mike couldn't understand it. Micky made no mention of this kid before. Where did he come from. As far as Mike could see he was

lazy and thoughtless but still Micky defended him to the hilt. It just didn't make any sense.

Micky passed his door as Mike reattached a guitar string in his bedroom.

"Micky," he called to him.

Micky came through the door an air of defensiveness about his face.

"Hay man, don't look so worried, I just thought we could catch up on stuff. We haven't talked in a while,"

"We see each other at the pizza place all the time. I'm the one who puts tomato sauce on your freshly made dough." Micky told him, in a hallow attempt at a joke.

"Yeah I know, if I see another pizza base I'll up and move back to Texas," Mike grinned. "I didn't do all that failing at school to end up a pizza maker all my life."

Micky grinned despite himself.

"At the risk of sounding all girly, it's good to see you smile Micky. You've been serious lately man."

"Well you know Mike, I've got some stuff on my mind."

"That stuff as you call it wouldn't have anything to do with young Charlie would it Mick."

Micky's face immediately darkened and Mike regretted taking that tack.

"He needs help Mike, what's so wrong in that. Once upon a time we met an English kid at the bus station who had just been robbed. Look how that turned out.'

"Yeah Mick but Davy is nothing like Charlie. Micky the kid is manipulative. The other day I found Peter washing the dinner dishes. It was Charlie's turn. Charlie told Pete he wasn't feeling well and needed to lie down. I know it for a fact that was pure hog wash."

"Mike, Charlie needs help. You don't know him like I do. He needs help and I'm gonna help him. I'll pay his share of the rent, you don't even have to worry about it." Micky got up and left the room the door closing not too quietly after him.

Mike pulled his hat off and scratched his dark head. He'd be the first to admit he didn't handle that too well. This kid was bringing Micky down. But not even that, he wasn't even a nice kid. He was sneaky. Mike couldn't help but notice he seemed to be short twenty dollars from his wallet. Money was tight and he had to watch every penny so the oldest Monkee was pretty sure he was not mistaken. He decided he would keep it to himself for now.

~o~

Charlotte was so impressed with herself. She had shown no sign of anything that morning only the usual yawns and stretches but now as the boys were off working she was hurrying across the city to a certain bus station. She had written to her parents ordering them to leave 400 dollars in a duffle bag at a greyhound bus station. She informed them in the letter that if they didn't pay they would never see their daughter alive again. 400 dollars wasn't a huge amount for them to come up with. She figured she'd have more chance of cashing in if she didn't ask for too much.

How happy she was to find the duffle bag in the girls toilets at the station. She smiled with glee as she exited the bathroom. She looked pretty funny entering a girls bathroom dressed as boy but thankfully it was empty. She hurried off planning already how she would spend her new found wealth. She did not notice the man behind the pillar watching her. As she exited the bus station, he threw his cigarette into a puddle and followed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Marcus Henning swished ice around in his glass of brandy brooding over the man's words. As he suspected, his daughter had shacked up with some friends. He knew the ransom note was a fake, he handed it over to Charlotte's governess and she confirmed what he suspected, it was indeed Charlottes handwriting.

"Shall I call the proper authorities sir. We could have her home by tea time," his man asked standing, nervously in the great room.

"No, no there's no call for that yet," Marcus answered. He looked over at his wife for her opinion. She was still painting some strange blob on a large canvas, working on the black stain as if it were a Monet.

"All that money wasted on art classes and you're painting a dog turd." He frowned at her.

Her pretty, vacant face never left the canvas as she spoke. "You don't understand honey dearest. This is called abstract, Franc says I have a natural gift for the macabre and my paintings will all be dark, beautiful masterpieces."

He ignored his wife, he went to the drinks counter. There was one in every room in this large estate house. He added more ice to his glass with a silver tongs and sloshed a good measure of brandy in. As he took a long draft of the burning liquid he began to work through how this new information would best serve his needs. He worked at one of the most prestigious law firms in the country. He was looking to make partner, mostly to keep his wife in the style to which she had become accustomed. But his drinking and womanising ways had put a spanner in that plan. But now if they believed that his daughter had been kidnapped and he couldn't say anything because that could get her killed well, that could go a long way towards explaining his heavy drinking. Marcus Henning wasn't beyond playing the sympathy card. No, those boys could look after his daughter for a bit, the time was not yet right to play that card.

~o~

The boys were enjoying a much needed day off work. Peter and Mike were on the beech trashing Davy at volley ball. Poor Davy was doing his best. It was funny to watch him stretch for every shot totally overworked against the two taller players but they did wish Micky would play too. He was down the beech talking with Charlie.

Davy, totally exhausted eventually called time on the game and he lay on his back on the sand breathing hard. Mike frowned as he watched Micky and Charlie approach. Micky looked like he had the troubles of the world on his shoulders as he listened to Charlie's woes.

It was a beautiful day and as they walked along Charlotte took in the sight of the girls on the beech decked out in their floral summer dresses and matching scarves. She looked down at herself wearing a long sweater and jeans. She was sick of this game now she decided.

Mike could see the altercation from where he stood. Micky and Charlie seemed to be suddenly surrounded by a group of bikers. There were angry words exchanged and one particularly large biker squared up to Micky. Davy speared on ahead until Mike caught his arm and brought him back a pace.

"Take it easy Dave we'll sort this together," he told him.

"It was an accident," Micky was yelling into the man's face, "there's sand everywhere, of course it's going to get kicked around."

"He did that on purpose," the big man snarled. "You should tell your little friend to watch where he's going."

"Maybe you should watch where you're going," Micky yelled back, not making much of a good argument.

"Eh Micky..." Mike tried to intervene and winced as the big man landed the first punch.

Wishing fervently that he had on a suit of armour to protect him and not shorts and bare feet Mike dived in to save his friend as did Peter and Davy. Before long Mike was in a head lock, his air being cut at the source. He watched as Peter's panicked face whizzed by as he was being swung around. Davy was faring better, Davy could punch and he was not beyond fighting dirty, throwing sand up in their eyes and hitting below the belt. Micky was not to be seen. Something startled the bikers and suddenly Mike was dropped onto the sand. They hurried away leaving the boys to pick themselves up. Mike massaged his neck with a grimace. It was then that he turned and saw Micky's crumpled form. That's why the bikers had ran, they knew they had done damage. Even as he bled profusely from an angry gash to his head Davy bent to see to his friend. He called his name, shaking him slightly to rouse him. Mike came the other side tapping at his face.

"He's out cold man," He frowned.

"Don't cry Peter," Davy said without looking up at his friend.

Onlookers gathered around in a tight circle.

A shy looking beech dude in surf shorts suddenly extended his hand.

"Here, you can use this water." He said.

"Thanks man," Mike took the water and flicked drops on to Micky's face. As his eyes started to move beneath the lids Mike took water on to his hand and wiped it over the younger mans face. Micky came awake soon after staring up at the sky.

"Welcome back," Mike grinned in relief.

"Mike, what happened?"

"Ye took one for the team ol buddy," Mike answered as they hauled Micky to his feet and headed towards the beech house.

"We'll give you your privacy man," a wasted looking hippy told them as he opened the door to gain them admittance.

"Come on," he called to his friends. Begrudgingly they got up and staggered out of the beech hut leaving a trail of sweet smelling smoke wafting behind them.

"How do they even get in here man?" Davy asked.

"I don't know but they ate the last of the peanut butter," Mike noted as he lay Micky down on the couch.

"Why did those bikers pick on you guys?" Davy asked as Mike went to get an ice pack.

"They thought Charlie had kicked sand up into their faces deliberately," Micky told them.

"And did he?" Mike asked.

Micky just frowned at that.

"I know what you must think of me."

They all turned to see Charlotte dressed in the dress she wore the day Micky found her. Davy's eyes grew wide as he took in her very pretty appearance.

"As you can see, I would have had some difficulty fighting off those bikers. I have a lot of explaining to do, don't I."

She sat down and began to tell the story she had told Micky about her gangster father and how she would not be pulled into his wicked ways. Davy and Peter listened intently, Mike continued to see to Micky, wondering should he perhaps take him to the emergency room to be sure. He was fully awake now but he was very pale. Mike then moved on to Davy who had all but forgotten the angry gash to his head. He winced as the older boy dabbed at it with anti septic.

Charlotte droned on telling how she couldn't possibly help in fighting off those bikers considering she's female. Mike couldn't help thinking it was all very orchestrated, the fight and her transformation, almost like she planned it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It had been a busy day all round. Mike sighed deeply as he remembered again the fight on the beech. The rest of the band were in bed by now and Mike was just in the process of locking up. He always locked up. Even if he went to bed before the others he'd get up at some time during the night and give the house the once over, making sure all plugs were out and the doors were locked. Mike just did it automatically without thinking.

He frowned to himself as the days events played out once again in his head. Micky could have sustained serious injuries. Mike couldn't shake the idea that this girl, yes she was a girl now, Mike sniffed to himself. This girl had caused that row. No amount of telling himself he was paranoid and she was just a kid could change facts. She had started that row and she took money from his pants while they were all at work. This kid was bad news and that's all there was to it.

He went over and switched out the tv. The picture dissolved to a tIny dot on the screen and was gone.

He was just about to switch out the lights when he stopped and looked up at the figure on the landing.

"Is spying one of your tricks?" he asked.

She smiled a humourless smile and descended the spiral staircase.

"You don't have to come down, that's ok," he told her.

"I couldn't sleep, it's been some day."

"You can say that again," Mike agreed.

She looked up at him with a stony expression. Her face was pretty as any young girl but there was a coldness to her eyes.

"You don't like me much do you Mike?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know you. Which face are we seeing today, hard to know. You're not exactly transparent."

She turned her back on him and went to get some juice from the fridge.

"I want to stay here. I want us all to get along. What's so wrong in that?"

"I suspect you get a lot of what you want Charlotte. The fact is you ain't good company for Micky. You ain't been truthful with him or us."

She came back and handed Mike a glass of orange juice and took a sip from her own.

"You're right," she smiled. "I'll give you your due Mike you're clever. More clever perhaps than the others. Truth is, I'm not going to do as my parents say. No sir. I'm not going to lower myself and go to a state run high school."

She wrinkled her nose at that thought.

Mike let her talk away as he drank his orange juice.

"I'm not going to have my allowance cut and have friends laugh at me as I adorn cheaper clothes."

Mike frowned as a sudden dizzy spell took him, causing his head to swim.

"I'm not going to give in to any of their demands Mike. I'm going to stay here and live in peace. And I can't very well do that if you keep disapproving of me now can I. Micky really likes you Mike."

Mike stumbled slightly. She caught him and helped him sit on the couch.

"So I'm going to need you to be a little more accommodating Mike."

Beads of perspiration began to break out on his face and neck as the heavy dose took hold.

"What...what..." he tried to ask.

"It's a sedative, they give it to people who are going in for operations. The man told me its name but I can't remember just now."

Mike tried to focus his eyes on her as his breathing became laboured.

"I'll help you upstairs and into bed." She told him coldly "but I warn you, if you try to call out to the others I'll throw you down the stairs and you could be seriously hurt by that so just be smart Mike."

In his weakened state Mike could only look back at her. He had underestimated her.

True to her word she helped him up the stairs to his room. He just about managed to keep his feet under him. She literally put him to bed removing his clothes and pulling a night shirt over his head but he had no recollection of that as he had lapsed into unconsciousness.

She took one last look at him and with a grim smile she left his room, closing the door with a gentle click. She sighed with relief as the worrying side of her plan had gone so well.

~o~

Mike tried to focus his thoughts, tried to answer the questions put to him. He could see Davy's face but it was swimming around in his vision making his head spin so he closed his eyes against it.

Davy looked back at Micky. "We need a doctor, he's not good at all," He said.

Micky moved in and put a hand to Mike's forehead. "He's burning up. Maybe we could ask Mr Babbit for a loan. We could pay him back next month."

"Yeah, pigs might fly," Davy frowned.

"I have money in my piggy bank," Peter offered, his voice anxious. "I was saving for a hamster."

"How much you got man," Micky asked him seriously.

"Four dollars...hamsters aren't that expensive." He frowned.

"Four dollars, Jesus Peter, come back when you have something real to offer." Davy snapped at him.

Peter worried his bottom lip at his friends harsh words and his eyes began to fill.

"Don't worry man." Micky put a hand to his shoulder.

Charlotte suddenly appeared at Mike's bedroom door.

"Come on," she smiled cheerily. "You're not going to solve anything on an empty stomach. I've made eggs and bacon and fresh coffee. Then we'll decide how best to help Mike," she told them.

Micky gave her a hug. "You're a wonder Charlotte. That's just what we need."

Davy gave a half grin. "It might be nice to have a girl around." He said.

Micky went and put a hand to Mikes shoulder

"We'll be back soon man, you just rest." He told him.

Mike couldn't answer.

He nodded to the others and they all filed out of Mikes room and down the stairs.

Over breakfast they discussed Mike's sudden illness. The boys didn't want to leave for work but they had to pay the rent.

Besides, perhaps Charlotte was right. Maybe it was just a virus like the one her Father had last month. There was some nasty bugs going around at the moment. Thank God they had Charlotte who had agreed to stay and look after him. At least he would be in good hands while they were at work.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

With eyes barely open Mike stumbled towards the bathroom. He was damned if he was going to let her help him with that. He leaned on the wall as he took care of business trying to stay awake long enough. Then he stumbled to the sink to wash. He could only splash water on his face, his energy was all but gone so he straightened up and staggered back to his room to begin the mammoth task of dressing. He had managed to get his pants and shirt on when she barged in and dropped a bowl of water on his dresser.

"Silly, I knew you would try on your own." She went to him smiling all over her face and started to do up the buttons on his shirt.

"Get the hell away from me," he slurred trying to swat her away.

"Don't be silly, what are friends for," she smiled.

"You're sick," he told her.

She turned from him then taking something from the basin and when she turned back to face him, she held a cut throat razor.

Mike eyed the implement warily as she approached.

"Sick...am I Mike?"

He tried to back away. She caught hold of the collar of his shirt and grazed the razor across his skin causing a tiny nick on his neck. A bead of blood appeared and she smudged it with her thumb.

"You've been mean to me for no reason. I've been nice to you and Micky and the others and you've just been so mean to me Mike. I'm a nice person. I plan on looking after you but you have to be a lot nicer to me. That's only fair."

He felt so much like telling her she was sick and twisted but Mike held his tongue. His dark eyes followed every movement of that razor.

She lathered his face with soap as she talked.

"Hold still I don't want to cut you again." She told him as she scraped the blade across his skin.

"You'd best not tell the others what happened last night Mike. It wouldn't be wise."

Mike jumped slightly as the blade cut into him again.

"You need to stay still," she smiled cruelly. She took him by the collar of his shirt once more and scraped the blade across his face.

"I only just want to live here in peace Mike but if anyone, ANYONE crosses me well I will defend myself. That's only right."

She smiled at her work as she cleaned her hands on a towel.

Mikes face was a mess of soap and trickles of blood.

"I think we understand each other now."

~o~

The drug was starting to wear off and was leaving behind a sick, hungover stomach. Mike could only take water for breakfast. She had managed to get him downstairs and he was now lying on the couch feeling nauseous.

"I'm going to need to go out for a while." She told him after breakfast.

"You'll be alright, I'll be back soon."

The drug must have effected Mike's judgement because unfortunately he picked that moment to glance over at the phone.

"Don't get any ideas Mike. I thought I made myself clear upstairs."

Biting on her lower lip, she looked around the apartment.

"Ahh, this will do," She smiled and bending down she found Davy's tie he had worn to a recent interview.

Seeing what she intended to do, he put up a struggle but she managed to wrench his hands up behind him and tie them behind his back.

"It's only for your own safety, you could fall and hurt yourself and I wouldn't want that. Despite what you think I'm not a bad person Mike."

At this point he wasn't going to argue with her.

She smiled. "I'll be back soon, I'll bring lunch. You rest." Getting up, she threw a rug over him.

~o~

For once she did lock the back door meaning that no one could come in and find him. He knew it was all up to himself. Despite his dizzy head and swirling vision Mike was determined to get to the phone. He kicked off the rug and struggled off the couch and on to his knees. He tried to move but his hands behind him made him overbalance and his landed on his face with a grown.

That's where she found him two hours later. Quickly she pulled the tie from his wrists before calling to some people in the hall.

"You can come in."

Six young men entered looking around with uncertainty.

"It's alright come in," she beckoned them.

Two of them went to help her take Mike up and put him back on the couch.

The movement woke him and she noted with alarm that he was a whole lot sharper than he had been.

He pulled from their grasp and got to his feet.

"Who are these people Charlotte. Get them out of here," he ordered.

The six young men looked to her.

"As I said, my brother needs his anti psychotic medication. I can't administer it without help and our nurse just up and left this morning." She told them.

They still looked uncertain.

"Well do you want the practice time or not, it is part of the deal."

If Mike had sensed what was to come he would have ran for the door but he had his pride, this was his place. It was for them to leave. He didn't think that one through.

Six strapping lads went for him all at once. He lashed out punching and kicking but he was horribly outnumbered. He was wrestled to the ground despite his best efforts.

"Bring him to the couch," Charlotte ordered as she filled a syringe from a phial of clear liquid.

Mike struggled as they looped Davy's tie to his arm and pulled tight to bring up a vein.

"You're all in big trouble, this is assault," he ranted desperately.

"Please...don't do this,"

Charlotte held the syringe with a shaky hand. She hadn't done this before. One of the boys intervened.

"I shoot up regular, give it here,"

As his friends held Mike down he found the vein with expert precision first time.

"Ha, virgin veins. What I'd give to have this arm," he grinned as he pushed the liquid into his arm.

The effect was instantaneous and overwhelming. Mike felt like he was drowning.

"Go with it man," the syringe barer tapped lightly on his face as Mike's eyes rolled back in his head.

"That looks to be good stuff, you got any more?" They asked her.

"Only for my brother,"

One of them threw a rug over him and then they sauntered over to the instruments.

Charlotte purposely cleared her throat "Aren't we forgetting something," she asked.

One of their number came towards her and handed out twenty bucks.

She held it up with a smug grin. "Three hours practice time and keep it down, I have neighbours.

She left them to it them as they picked up the boys instruments and began playing.

Mike could only listen as they twanged his guitar out of tune and threw Davy's tambourine across the room in frustration at a wrong note. He was close to oblivious as the heavy dose numbed his limbs and dulled his senses. He could only lie there and listen.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Charlotte ran around putting all the instruments back where they were and straightening up. Mike could only follow her with his eyes. He lay on the couch counting the minutes until the guys got home.

Charlotte was aware of that too. In desperation she turned on him. Mike moved back as she invaded his space.

"I need you to promise that you'll say nothing," she whispered in a tone of desperation.

Mike just stared her down, adamant that he would promise nothing of the kind.

"Promise," she shook him slightly.

When he didn't, she ran to her handbag. She brought it to the couch. He moved back as from its interior she pulled a small expensive looking knife. He could only watch as she tested the blade with her thumb.

"I've been watching you Mike, it's Peter. You're most protective of Peter. I don't want to hurt anyone Mike but I need you to understand. It's important that I stay here, in peace. We can all live here happily together. You, me, Davy, Micky...and Peter."

"Please, will you promise to say nothing," she asked.

As the blade moved easily back and forth through her fingers, Mike slowly nodded his head.

"Promise," he said.

~o~

The boys came through the door soon after. They dropped their gear and headed for the couch exhausted from their long shift at the pizza restaurant.

"Mike, you look terrible man," Micky told him as he put a hand to his shoulder.

"Aren't you feeling any better?"

Charlotte took up position behind Peter's chair as Micky spoke.

"I'm ok Micky," Mike lied, following Charlotte's every movement with his eyes.

"He's just had some broth and he took most of it, didn't you Mike."

Mike nodded. That was actually true. In his current state his swallow reflex would not be good so she cooked up some soup and made him eat it. It was foul.

"You sure you're ok man?" Micky asked.

"I...need to go upstairs," Mike asked with pleading eyes.

With a small smile Micky helped him up.

"Come on soldier, March in step," he quipped as he brought a hand around his friends waist and brought Mike's arm around his shoulder.

Charlotte looked up with a smile. "Oh you should have asked, I would have brought you Mike,"

Mike scowled. Exactly the reason he had been holding it for hours.

~o~

Micky left Mike in the bathroom and waited outside. Davy came up to join him. Micky looked down at him with a worried frown.

"I think we aught to bring him to the emergency room. This has come on very sudden. It could be meningitis. My cousin had that..."

"It's not meningitis," Davy smiled. "Your girlfriend called on Dr Mann, had him come out to see Mike. He has a virus. Apparently it's making the rounds of the neighbourhood."

Micky nodded with a feint smile. "That's a relief. Here, stay and help me get him to his room will ye Davy,"

When Mike was ready, Davy and Micky hauled him off to his bedroom.

"Where's Peter, Micky where's Peter?" Mike cried anxiously as they laid him on the bed.

"He's gone for burgers, he's ok Mike." Davy told him.

Mike nodded in relief as already his eyes began to close.

The boys exchanged worried glances, "He doesn't seem to have a temperature. How come he's so anxious?" Davy asked as Micky began unbuttoning his shirt.

"He's not himself but he is sick so..." Micky stopped as he had pulled Mike's shirt off over his head. His eyes narrowed as he noticed a slight bruise forming around a pin prick on Mike's arm.

"Charlotte said Doctor Mann had given him medication today. That's probably an injection he gave him."

Micky frowned as he looked at Davy.

"Charlotte said a lot of things," he commented.

"What's that supposed to mean," Davy snapped. "Aw for heaven sake Micky, she lives here. You're not going to have a face on every time she speaks to anyone besides you are you?"

Micky felt ashamed. "Sorry man, I'm just uptight about stuff,"

Davy nodded "Come on. We'd best get him in bed. He's asleep already."

They put Mike into his night shirt and covered him up. Something about him did not sit well with Davy. It was more than his pasty complexion and weakened state. His facial expression was as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Davy vowed to have a talk with him when he was next awake. Perhaps he felt guilty for missed days of work. Mike was prone to such guilts unlike the rest of them. Davy would talk to him, he promised himself.

~o~

There was much laughing and horse play as Davy and Charlotte cleaned up after dinner. Their task of washing dishes soon descended into a water fight. Charlotte giggled charmingly as Davy went to spray her with the hose and missed. She managed to plop a ball of foam on his head making him all the more determined to get her back.

Peter was in a corner heating milk for Mike. Peter considered every problem solvable with just the right amount of hot chocolate. He would bring it up in his favourite mug with a cookie on the side. Micky sat at the window playing lightly on his drums trying to tamp down the jealously starting to encircle his heart. Just then Micky could not see Davy's natural playful spirit, Davy could never complete a boring task without it descending to chaos, a trait that sometimes annoyed Mike considering he was older. But just now Micky could not see that. All he could see was his friend moving in on the girl he loved. Davy always gets the girl, isn't that it though!.

Micky broke into a loud thumping of drums as he sang "goin down" in his head. He carried on this racket until he caught sight of Peter at the foot of the stairs. Peter never had the nerve to openly challenge the other boys but he stood with pleading eyes asking Micky to think of their sick friend upstairs. Micky dropped the drumsticks and headed out the back door to go walk on the beach. Davy and Charlotte didn't notice his departure as they laughed all the more.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

A/N, Drugs fill you with a false sense of security and warmth as they systematically distroy your body, your mind and your life.

THE MONKEES WOULD NEVER DO DRUGS.

~o~

He tried to swat him away but Peter would not be deterred.

He hadn't seen Mike have any broth. Mike didn't have a burger either. How did he expect to get any better without having good food inside of him. Peter's momma always said you should feed a cold. So despite Mike's efforts to sleep forever Peter hauled him up. Putting pillows behind him, he gave him a drink of water first. Mike took the water as if he was out in the desert. He suddenly had a ferocious thirst. Peter then tried with the hot chocolate but Mike shook his head.

"No, can't." He winced, turning from the smell of it.

Putting the cup aside, Peter took a flannel and pouring water on it he wiped it over Mike's face and neck. He was sweating so much his dark hair was wet and curly.

"Thanks Pete," Mike said, his voice weak.

"Mike, what's wrong? Can't you tell me?"

Mike reached for him but in his weakened state his hand dropped. Peter took it.

"Tell me what I can do,"

Mike thought for a minute and then quickly spoke to his friend.

"Peter, you gotta be careful. Get out of..."

They both looked up as Charlotte stood at the door.

"Peter, Micky is looking for you downstairs. He wants to do a practice session." She smiled.

"You go on man," Mike told him, knowing his chance was lost.

"I'll check in on you later Mike," Peter got up and shuffled out, smiling shyly at Charlotte as he went.

Once he was gone Charlotte gave Mike a cold stare.

She went to him and slapped his face sharply.

"Nice try," she spat, "you're not going to ruin things for me Mike. I won't let you. Peter is a lovely innocent fella. But he could be severely hurt because you just wouldn't do simple things I ask. That would be your fault Mike if Peter got hurt."

Mike could say that it certainly would not be his fault but as ashamed as he was, in his weakened state he was actually quite afraid of her.

~o~

As Peter came down the spiral staircase he frowned to hear Davy and Micky bickering at each other. They had started in on "last train to Clarksville" but Micky had halted in mid sentence claiming that Davy's tambourine was off by a mile.

"Maybe you're just a little distracted, thinking on something else or maybe someone else."

"Micky if you've got something to say, just say it man. Your back has been up about something all evening. I'm not going to take this shit."

Peter was about to intervene when something caught his eye. A tiny bloodstain on the floor by Davy's tie. Peter picked up the tie and saw too a small blood stain on the navy blue cotton. It looked relatively fresh. He was about to hold it up when Davy put his tambourine down and went to sit on the couch.

"Any time you wanna stop talkin in riddles and tell me what's bothering you Micky, I'll listen until then play on your own."

The tie was soon forgotten as Peter tried to mediate in the fight, a job usually undertaken by Mike.

Charlotte came down and took in the tension between the boys with a small smile. She went and took her place by Davy on the couch.

~o~

As the days went on Charlotte grew restless. Having boys over to practice while the Monkee's were at work was generating some small income but she needed most of that for Mike's medication. She'd have to come up with a long term solution for him at some point. She considered accusing him of something and getting him arrested but it was all too risky. She'd have to think on it. Meanwhile she needed funds. She wasn't used to having no money to spend so exhausting every other option she decided on another ransom note to her parents.

Marcus Henning smiled as he read the note handed to him that morning. They had been having quite a holiday from their whining demanding daughter. He knew he would have to bring her in from the cold at some point but not just yet. He ordered that his man fill a duffle bag with the required amount and leave it at the bus station as before.

He would incur such sympathy from his associates at work when they finally realised the strain he was under having a missing daughter. But he would not play that card yet, not just yet.

~o~

Things at the household were becoming easier for Charlotte. Now she had money to buy the luxuries she was so used to. She just needed to keep the jewellery and perfumes hidden from the boys. Mike too was becoming easier to handle. As much as he held her in contempt he took the medication she gave him without as much struggle. She found this confusing and wondered what his game was until one of the boys coming to practice explained that he might be growing dependent on it. Sure enough Mike was growing compliant, as much as it filled him with shame he was starting to look forward to the hit.

Davy and Micky were at odds with each other most days. She enjoyed that most of all. She knew with relish that they were fighting mostly over her and it gave her such a boost. She enjoyed so much openly flirting with Davy, the pair jumping apart when Micky would come into the room. The tension created was so funny. With both Micky and Davy so at odds with each other they had little time to ponder on Mike's on going illness, his weight loss and his lack of interest in anything.

Peter spent more and more time on the beech on his own. One evening he found a dog and spent the evening throwing a stick for him. Another evening he collected shells and left them gathered on the sand. He spent more and more time alone on the beech but at some point he had to go in. At some point he had to share space with his friends.

~o~

Peter trudged into the beech house. There was a frosty silence in the kitchen as Micky and Davy prepared snacks for themselves. Peter just ignored them.

Charlotte held the syringe up tapping out the air bubble as one of the boys who comes to practice had shown her.

Mike lay on the bed just watching. He would not give in to her this time. She was trying to up the dose as he was starting to grow immune to the drugs effects. He'd already had a dose today, he would not have it again.

"Come on now, it'll make you feel good, help you sleep," she told him as she tried to get hold of his arm.

He struggled as much as he was able but he only had so much energy. Eventually she managed to find the vein and plunge the clear liquid in. All struggle ceased and Mike went limp, the heavy dose taking hold immediately.

"Damn you, you got some blood on my new skirt," she snapped, slapping him hard across the face.

With a sigh of annoyance she got up from the bed. She froze.

Peter stood at the door looking stunned.

"What...what are you doing?" He asked.

Charlotte could not answer. "I...er.."

"Why did ye hit him, why did ye hit Mike," Peter's voice broke with emotion.

A sudden sound downstairs made them both jump.

Micky and Davy too jumped back as the door to their apartment burst open.

So many armed police officers stormed into their apartment Micky turned white. He stood back against the counter as several crowded in on him.

"Turn around, hands on your head," they barked.

In total confusion he did as he was told and cuffs were fixed to his wrists. He could see out the corner of his eye Davy was receiving the same treatment. The apartment was suddenly a battle ground of noise and confusion.

He looked on in alarm as Peter was practically thrown down the spiral staircase, his hands cuffed behind him. Charlotte was then brought down gently flanked by two female officers. She was being comforted as she was led out of the apartment, she didn't look at the boys once.

"Mr Dolenz, I am arresting you on charges of kidnapping and false imprisonment, do you have anything to say sir."

Micky wasn't listening, he watched as several officers were bringing Mike down from upstairs. They weren't too gentle as they dragged him down the spiral staircase.

"Careful with him, he's been real sick," he told them anxiously.

"Yeah right...sick," they sniffed as they dropped him on the floor.

"Have the narcotics team standing by, this kid is stoned," the head officer barked at his subordinates. Micky could only stare with eyes wide as Mike was searched and a syringe was found in his pocket.

"She put it there," Peter blurted to the officer holding him. "Charlotte put there, I saw her,"

"Shut up kid," the officer cuffed him on the head rendering Peter silent.


	9. Chapter 9

I'd like to say a big thank you to Murdock Calavicci for supporting my story. Thanks Murdock (-:

Chapter 9.

Before long they found themselves in a small cell of the local police station sitting on the floor. Mike had been thrown on the only bunk. He lay face down, one arm trailing down to the floor. He looked as though he was barely breathing. They had pleaded with the officers that he receive some medical attention, so far that went unheeded. Davy sat with him rubbing circles on his back and tapping lightly on his face trying to get him awake but so far the older boy hadn't moved.

Micky hadn't spoken since it happened. He sat with his head down feeling the full weight of guilt on his shoulders. Peter had told them what had happened upstairs with Mike. They were now certain that Charlotte was at the route of Mike's sudden "illness".

The door clanked open and all three stood up. A large officer with a night stick entered.

"Move to the back wall," he ordered.

They all had questions but it didn't look as though he would give them an answer. They did as ordered and two women in hospital garb entered. They went to Mike and turned him over.

One took a small torch and lifting his lids, shone the light in his eyes.

"Michael, Michael," she yelled into his face.

The other lady pinched his hands and arms systematically working her way up and down each.

"He's called Mike," Peter told them.

Micky nudged him to be quiet but the lady looked up at him and nodded.

"Mike, Mike" she called.

Davy winced as she slapped him hard across the face.

"Wake up, wake up." She slapped him again.

"What has he taken?" she turned her attention to the boys.

"It was medication for a virus," Davy told her.

She grew impatient. "What was it?"

Micky answered. "We don't know, Charlotte took care of his medication," he told them, feeling a world of guilt.

"Wonderful friends you are. He's on the brink of death, overdosed on God knows what and you're running us around in circles."

"We don't know, honest, please just help him." Davy pleaded, feeling tears well in his eyes.

She turned to the guard. "We're going to have to send him to St Vincent's. We can't do nothing for him here. He's showing no reaction."

Before long a gurney was wheeled in and an oxygen mask was fitted over his face. Probes were fitted to his chest hooked up to a bleeping monitor. The boys took all this in with dread creeping around their hearts. A male doctor examined him and nodded approval that he could be moved. He became annoyed as the guard produced a set of handcuffs and held them all up as he cuffed Mike's wrist to the side of the trolley. And then Mike was gone. They took him away and closed the door after them with a loud clunk. Micky slid down the wall his hands over his face.

~o~

"Don't cry man," Davy put a hand to his shoulder.

"I should have been watching him, I let that bitch into our home and she practically destroyed him. I had no idea." Micky sobbed.

"She had us all fooled," Davy slid down the wall beside him. "It was all of us Micky"

Peter sat on the bed. "When I saw her hit him, I couldn't believe it. Why would she do that. We let her stay, we were nice to her. Why?" Peter stared in bewilderment.

"If anything happens to Mike I'll never forgive myself," Micky muttered.

Davy ran a hand down his back. "Let's just try and think positive," he said.

"Yeah after all, God loves the Monkees," Peter tried to smile.

Though when Davy looked up at him Peter frowned fearing he may have said the wrong thing.

But Micky nodded, "God loves the Monkees."

~o~

"Ok so you pulled her out of the car, then what happened," both detectives smoked incessantly. The interrogation room was now bathed in a fog of swirling grey smoke.

Micky's head was melted, he'd been asked this same question over and over.

"I offered to call her an ambulance."

"Why didn't you call her an ambulance?"

"She said she was fine, she said she didn't need one."

"So then what happened?"

"I brought her back to the apartment."

"You brought a strange girl who had just been in an accident back to your apartment. Why Micky, why would you do that?"

"I don't know, I didn't know what else to do."

"You didn't think to call her parents?"

"She didn't seem to want to go home," it all sounded awfully sordid now but at the time Micky saw no great harm in it.

The other detective started in on him then.

"Did you have sex with her Micky?"

"No," Micky said, looking directly at him.

"What about the guy in the hospital, Mike."

"No he didn't, he didn't even like her,"

Both detectives raised their eyebrows at that.

Micky realised then that it may not have been the wisest thing to say but he was so tired he was beyond caring. He propped his head up in his hand swirling a coffee stain on the table with his finger.

"How long has your friend Mike been a drug addict?"

"He isn't a drug addict," he said quietly as he continued to swirl the coffee stain with his finger.

That question shocked him the first time, now he was becoming immune to all their questions having been asked each several times.

Just as Micky thought his head would explode the door opened and another officer walked in and whispered something to the detective who gave just a feint nod in return.

"Ok kid, we'll leave it there for now," the detective turned to the recording device.

"Interview of suspect Micky Dolenz, Case 22/8b terminated 0800 hours."

Micky got stiffly to his feet, trying to get feeling back in his right foot as the detective slipped cuffs onto his wrists and led him out of the interrogation room. They were heading down a dingy corridor, Micky practically asleep already when a sudden shriek startled him awake. Charlotte stood in the corridor flanked by female detectives, screaming hysterically.

"No, it's him, get him away from me. Get him away," she cried hysterically, trying to pull from their grasp.

Micky hadn't time to take this in as he was grabbed roughly on all sides and marched quickly past them. On instinct he tried to turn and look back at her but felt a meaty hand close around the collar of his shirt and push him onwards.

He was thus handled until they reached his cell. Only then did they let him go. The officers all filed out then all except the oldest one who hung back after they left.

He took the cuffs off Micky's wrists as he spoke.

"If you've any sense kid you'll keep your head down until your lawyer arrives," he told the boy gruffly.

Micky could only nod as he took in his hostile surroundings.

"Do you want me to call anyone, your father perhaps?" The detective asked.

"No thank you sir," Micky muttered.

"Breakfast will be in soon and your friends should be back by then," The detective gave a feint smile.

"Please," Micky asked, before the man could leave.

"My friend Mike?"

The detective shook his head grimly. "No word yet son," he told him.

Left alone then Micky sat on the only cot. He crawled up until his back was against the wall and he put his head down and slept.

He awoke abruptly as the door clanked open. Peter came in looking visibly upset. Davy followed flanked by a detective and a tiny prim looking woman wearing glasses and a sharp suit.

"David Jones is a subject of the British crown and as such it is my duty to see to it that his rights are fully adhered to at all times," she told the detective in a snippy tone.

"I come here to find that he has been in custody no less than five hours and yet he has not been offered a single phone call or indeed a trip to the lavatory which is in breach of his basic human rights."

The detective tried to interrupt but she was on a roll.

"The British embassy should have been informed immediately of his arrest. This just isn't good enough,"

Ignoring his growing irritation she then turned to Davy.

"I will return tomorrow Mr Jones with fresh clothes and toiletries as requested. I would recommend that you say as little as possible until your barrister arrives. He should be here around mid day."

"Thank you," Davy nodded.

They filed out then, still arguing. The door closed after them.

"Geez can I be a British subject?" Micky asked.

"She's good, isn't she," Davy smiled, feeling a little bit in love despite the mess.

They both turned as Peter continued to sniff, miserably to himself.

"Don't worry Pete," Micky put a hand out to him.

"You don't understand. I told them, I told them I'd seen Mike smoke a joint once. I didn't mean to but they just kept going on and on. I couldn't think straight." He sobbed.

"If Mike gets into trouble then it's all my fault."

"No it's not Peter," Micky reassured him. "So what if you told them Mike smoked a joint once. You just told them the truth. That was years ago. I remember Mike telling me his Father gave him a tanning for that."

"He couldn't sit comfortably for a week," Peter nodded.

"Blimey, we'd just get a clip round the ear," Davy muttered.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Micky was brought down for interrogation again later that evening. But it was as if something had radically changed. First he was offered coffee and a cigarette. He took the coffee with a small smile of gratitude. The latter he declined. The whole tack of the questioning seemed to change.

"Micky when did your friend Michael first show...symptoms," the detective asked.

"Exactly five days ago," he told them honestly.

"And was it a gradual thing or did it happen overnight, sudden like,"

"It was sudden, he was fine all Thursday but by Friday morning he had to be helped with basic stuff,"

The detective took a puff on his cigarette. "And what did you guys do about it, did you call a doctor for him or..."

Micky suddenly felt a wave panic well up within him. "What's going on, is Mike alright. He's not...,"

"No, no," the detective actually patted his arm.

"We're just trying to get a background on what happened. Your friend is in the intensive care unit at St Vincent's but word has it he's doing well and they plan on moving him to their detox unit later today."

Micky smiled with relief and realised then that the detective was waiting for an answer to his question.

"Truth is, we didn't do anything. We went to work and left him alone with Charlotte. We thought she was looking after him. But he never had sex with her, you know like you were asking this morning" Micky put in quickly.

"They were alone in the house but he was too sick to even consider...,"

"I know, I know, that's ok son," the detective quickly skipped over that.

"Micky, have you ever heard of a band called the Marshall Crowns?"

Micky thought for a minute, "No sir,"

The detective nodded as if he expected that answer.

"Right we're done for the day, do you boys want burgers for your evening meal or meatballs,"

"Burgers please, is there fries?"

The detective led him out of the interrogation room.

"Louie, did ye get this, he wants fries with his burger. Do you remember the days when they only got bread and dripping?"

"Dripping if you were lucky," the much older detective prodded Micky. "That's when men were men,"

"We have these kids spoilt, they think they're back at home with their momma," the detective joked as he led Micky back to his cell. Micky couldn't but notice that the detective hadn't used the handcuffs.

Once back in his cell he noted his two friends sitting on the cot with a lady sitting across from them on a plastic chair holding a file on her knees. She beckoned Micky to join his friends.

"Welcome Mr Dolenz," she waited for the detective to leave before she began.

"I probably shouldn't tell you all this but I think you three deserve to be filled in. Firstly and most importantly your friend has been moved out of intensive care and into a detox unit at the hospital."

Both Davy and Micky breathed a sigh of relief.

"Is he going to be ok?" Peter asked, not quite understanding.

She gave him a reassuring smile, "it's looking good for him. He's awake and holding his own. Apparently the prognosis is good. That's all they would tell me but that's good news anyway isn't it?"

They all agreed with a smile.

"As for you three, well this has to be the shortest job I've ever taken on as a lawyer. They plan on releasing you as soon as the paperwork is filed."

"They're releasing us?" Micky couldn't believe it.

"Charlotte Henning is ...no angel shall we say. She has crashed her car three times this year alone and then filed law suits against the poor passer by who came to help, claiming that he or she injured her taking her out of the car.

The claim that you kidnapped her has more holes in it than Swiss cheese. She claimed that you wrote ransom notes, when the notes were obviously written in her own hand. She claimed that you needed the money for musical instruments. Your instruments have obviously seen better days, your food cupboard does not show an abundance of sudden wealth and she couldn't explain the bags of expensive perfumes and jewellery found stashed under the bed she slept in.

But most worrying, and something the police will want to talk to you about is the condition of your friend. Hospital records show that he had a blood test only last month and it was completely clean. Nothing showed up in it.

They found none of the usual drugs paraphernalia around your home either. But most damning is testimony from a young man from the band The Marshall Crowns. He claims that she let him and his band members use your instruments during the day for a modest fee."

The boys stared at her in shock.

"Oh there's more. One of the band members claims that in order to use the equipment he had to help her administer medication to her brother."

"Mike," Davy was incredulous.

She nodded " he confessed to helping her administer the dose against the recipients will."

"She got friends to help her drug him," Micky said, barely holding on to his anger.

"Why didn't Mike tell us though," Peter wondered.

"He was in a very vulnerable situation. Perhaps she threatened him or perhaps she threatened violence against one of you. Anyway the police will be talking to him later today and they'll get his statement. So that's where we stand. As I said I've run my mouth off telling you all this so please keep it to yourselves."

She closed her file and stood up. The boys stood too.

"They'll probably let you out after your evening meal but they will be in touch with you as regards your friends circumstance. Good luck," she shook hands with each of them and briskly walked out of the cell which strangely was not locked.

"So what do we do now," Davy asked as they stood there.

"We wait," Micky grinned.

"Kinda makes you want to...start a new trend or something," Peter smiled with the excitement.

"What Peter?" Davy asked him.

Peter put out his two arms, "group hug!"

With a smile of relief they all hugged together.

"It'll never catch on Peter," Davy's voice was muffled as he was being squished.

~o~

The Monkees were soon released from the police station and their role became that of witnesses rather than the accused. They all were relieved at that. Mike made a steady recovery. He had to be on constant watch over the next week and a half as coming down from hard drugs brought on horrendous withdrawal symptoms. It wasn't quite a happy ending for him, he had a rough stay in hospital. Eventually he was released looking a little worse for wear.

Over the following weeks the boys tried to get back to normal. One positive outcome from the incident was that it got them attention. Suddenly they were wanted for more gigs than they could handle so at least they were kept busy. Nobody quite knew the full story but a stay behind bars gave them an edge and made them suddenly popular to the impressionable kids they played for. Usually such things would not sit well with Mike. He was ever mindful of their image and wanted them always recognised for the music and not for sensational attention but on this occasion he didn't much care. He played the gigs without comment even when they played in the more seedy night venues.

On one such occasion the boys brought some girls back to the beech house. They had been drinking beers into the late hours proceeding the gig. They were ready to party if they could just stay upright long enough.

They had just that morning gotten the news that Charlotte had received a suspended sentence. Her father had hired a top ranking lawyer from his own law firm who made the boys look like outright liars on the stand. It was particularly hard on Mike who had to relive the whole ordeal and was cross examined on it.

With that news still on their minds, the boys let rip after the gig and got tanked.

The girls they brought back with them were laughy, didzy chicks. They were the type who followed every guitar playing dude around. They all continued to party to the early hours, Davy getting his face kissed off by two girls swearing he was the cutest thing they had ever seen.

Peter brought the other girl back to his bedroom. Unfortunately she found his collection of furry animals. His sisters always brought him one every Christmas. Peter hadn't the heart to tell them he'd grown out of them

The girl picked one blue furry teddy from the group. He said she could have it. She held it close as they lay on his bed and talked until they both fell asleep.

Micky soon noticed that Mike was not with them. As he passed her, one of the girls attached to Davy reached for him but Micky went on to the window. Mike was out on the beech looking out into the serf. He took a swig of his beer as Micky walked up to him.

"Some night," Micky said with a slight grin.

Mike just nodded.

In his green shirt and black pants he looked even thinner. Mike hadn't gained back any of the weight yet. Sometimes he actually looked quite unwell.

"You haven't really been yourself lately Mike," Micky began.

Mike took another drink.

"If you're mad at me then just say it. Say it and we'll move on...damn it just say something Mike."

Mike suddenly turned to him.

"What do you want me to do Micky, do you want me to shout about it, yeah I'm pissed. I'm pissed she came into our lives, I'm pissed I didn't see it happening and yeah, maybe I am just a little pissed at you for bringing her here." Mike voice cracked slightly with emotion.

"For what it's worth I'm sorry," Micky told him honestly.

"I know you are, appreciate that." Mike stood down.

"Are we gonna be ok?" Micky asked.

Mike smiled grimly "we're going to have to be we got gigs lined up all month."

Micky nodded, hardly knowing what else to say.

After a minute Mike turned and headed back towards the beech house.

"Come on it's freezing out here."

Micky followed his friend worrying just a little that their relationship might never be quite the same again.

The End


End file.
